Not A Tool After All
by firegirl08
Summary: Kakashi comes back after a mission and is waiting for Sakura to come heal him at his apartment. Oneshot w mild Kakasaku pairing, teacherstudent, friendfriend. Warning: Drug abuse, drug addiction, language.
1. A Tool

A/N: Rating is for language, Kakashi and Sakura have potty-mouths. Just my little drabble on what it would be like if Kakashi had a drug addiction. Inspired by "Better Than Drugs" by Skillet. Implied Kakashi-Sakura pairing, more friends that anything. Tell me what you think! Constructive crit is welcome.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, if I did, Kakashi would live in my bedroom :).

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He hated to be dependant on anything, or anyone. But he just couldn't survive without this. It was the only thing that kept him out of the hospital with injuries like these. The only thing that allowed him to lie, to say he didn't hurt. He remembered the first time he had succumbed to the ever-present bottle. It had been after one of those missions—the kind that tests every strength and weakness. He had been broken, tossed around like a rag doll. The medic-nin had handed him the bottle and told him that he would be in pain. She wasn't lying. He had gotten back to his flat the minute the hospital's morphine wore off and collapsed in pain by the kitchen sink. Just barely able to get the damned childproof lid off the bottle, he had taken the little yellow pill and curled up in the fetal position, waiting for it to take effect. He had thought afterward, so falls the great copy-nin.

Now, he sat in his dark apartment, waiting for Sakura to arrive. He hadn't bothered stowing the morphine pills away…he didn't care enough to. Head in hand, blood pooling at the foot of his stool, staring at the bottle, tipped over on the counter, the pills spilled across the surface. People wondered how he could stay in ANBU so long…the answer was right there in front of him. He had been numb already, body and mind…a reckless killing machine.

Like clockwork, Sakura tapped on the window, ignoring the door like her former sensei had done so often. She didn't wait for him to answer, just slid the pane back and hopped in lightly.

"Kakashi-sensei, you really need to start going to the hospital with things like this," she said, her worry showing in her voice. She set her bag down on the counter, not seeing the pill bottle. "Don't even try to tell me 'It's just a scratch,' either."

Kakashi hissed a little for effect as Sakura peeled off the pieces of his jonien vest, followed by his shirt.

"Kakashi! You could've bled to death if I hadn't come tonight!" she exclaimed.

"Nah," he said, waving his hand weakly. "It's just a flesh wound…didn't hit any major arteries."

Sakura didn't argue with him, knowing her friend would remain block-headed, as usual. She pushed her chakra into him, sealing the nasty gash across his back. They remained silent, going through the motions they performed every couple of weeks, the actions so familiar that they needed no explanation.

"Let me see your wrist," Sakura insisted, holding out her own hand. Kakashi reluctantly placed his left wrist in her hand. "Fractured, just as I thought. Didn't I tell you to keep it wrapped for a month?"

"Sorry," Kakashi sighed. He was already gone with morphine.

"Really, Kakashi, you should take better care of yourself. I can't imagine what you did before I could come and make house calls."

"…"

"Kakashi? Fuck, Kakashi, stay awake! You've lost too much blood to fall asleep right now."

"Sorry," Kakashi said again, adjusting himself a little.

"Why don't you go take a shower or something?" Sakura asked, hand on his shoulder. She moved her bag away, and then noticed the morphine pills. "God, Kakashi, how many did you take?"

"Umm…three, I think," he replied nonchalantly.

"God, Kakashi, these are seventeen milligrams each! How are you even alive right now?" Sakura asked, immediately going through her little bag to find an antidote. Kakashi stopped her with a weak hand on her wrist.

"Don't bother. I've built up a tolerance over the years," Kakashi said, still staring at the counter with unseeing eyes.

"K-Kakashi, how long have you been popping morphine pills?" Sakura asked slowly.

"Going on eleven or twelve years now," he admitted. "ANBU does things like that to you."

"No wonder you stayed in so long. Kakashi, you have to stop."

Kakashi looked at her disbelievingly. "Sakura, as a medic-nin, you of all people should know what that would do to me."  
"Don't you dare pull that card on me, Hatake!" she bit back, causing Kakashi to flinch. If she was using his surname, he knew she was pissed. "Ah, what use is it talking to you right now?" she said, as though to herself.

"Sakura…" he began pleadingly.

"No, Kakashi, you have to get off of these. I'm putting in to Tsunade-sama that your prescription is revoked, and I'm going to see to it personally that you don't get any more missions that would make you hurt bad enough to need the damn morphine." Sakura threw the last of her stuff in her bag and zipped it. She swept the rest of the pills back into the container and stowed it in her bag. "From now on, someone will issue you morphine as it is judged you need it."

"No, Sakura, don't do this to me…" Kakashi pleaded, gripping her wrist tightly. "Don't…"

"I have to, Kakashi," she said sadly. She slid her bag to the window and gripped Kakashi's elbows, lifting him a little so he stood on his feet. Sakura steered him to the couch, laying out a sheet before she let him lie down. He fell onto the couch, exhaustion creeping over him.

Kakashi lay there, unable to move, unfeeling. The only sensation was that of complete numbness. This last morphine dose had been unaccompanied by the familiar adrenaline rush, and the high he usually got. The feeling had become less and less frequent. Instead, it had been replaced by all-consuming exhaustion. That exhaustion was calling to him now, bidding him to join it in a dreamless sleep, despite Sakura's instructions.

"Fuck," he breathed, resisting, though he didn't know why. Sakura was beside him again, brushing his silver hair away from his face. He couldn't even feel her cool hands against his feverish skin. The morphine had stolen even that away from him. His vision was blurring, blocking even the bright-pink locks of hair out of his sight.

"Kakashi, stay awake, dammit! You can't go to sleep yet, and I can't give you this supplement until the morphine wears off! Dammit, Kakashi, why do you do this to us?"

Us? Who had cared about him since Rin and the Yondaime's deaths? Who had given a shit about Kakashi the Copy-cat Nin? No one. He had been alone, abandoned to ANBU, not even acknowledged by his teammates. A tool. Shinobi. He closed his eyes.

The initial affects were wearing off, the total numbness that had consumed him. He could now feel the gentle ministrations of Sakura's hands, an attempt to keep him awake. But there was something else. He felt the warm moisture invading his personal space, cooling and slipping down his face into his mask. Was she crying? Did his personal addiction really affect her that much? Why does she care?

Care? What does that word mean? What kept her coming here, night after sleepless night, trying to save the Copy-cat's worthless life?

Maybe his life wasn't as worthless as he thought. Maybe someone had cared for him, someone, for the past few years. And he had been too blind to it. Maybe his worthless life had meant something, to someone. Maybe, just maybe, he had touched someone else's life. So, not a tool after all. A person. A person who was needed, maybe even loved.

He could see again, and feel. Sakura was still beside him, still running the fingers of one hand through his hair unconsciously, and rubbing pressure points in his neck with the other hand. He could see that she was indeed crying, just little tears slipping down her face to land on his. She didn't seem to notice the liquid, but he did, and he reached up to brush the tears away lightly.

"Dammit, why do you do this to me," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and covering his hand with hers.

"Because I didn't think that anybody cared," he replied.

"How could you think that, Kakashi?" she asked. "How could you think that, when you saved Sasuke and Naruto, both, and Sai, and Shikamaru…and me? Can't you see, you're our rock! The only sane thing in this entire place!"

"I've been blind, Sakura. And now I see."

I'm not a tool after all.

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Woo-hoo! 1,382 words! Alright, this didn't turn out _exactly_ like I thought it would, but this little one shot just kinda came to me while I was jammin' out on my computer. If you read, please review!!! 


	2. Strength

A/N: This story was supposed to be a oneshot, but by a request from jemiul I've added this last follow-up. I won't touch this again, I promise. If you love it, hate it, think I should take away the second chap, let me know! Thanks for the reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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Strength

Sure, there had been a withdrawal period. Two months where it took all his strength just to lift his head or reach for his bedside table to shut of that damned alarm clock. Two months of excruciating pain that made him regret all the ANBU and suicide missions he had agreed to go on over the years. Two months of feverish dreams that made him relive every mission over and over again. Two months of his own demons ripping to the surface and bearing their ugly heads.

His body and mind had been weak, but she was always there, watching over him and removing any temptation there was to numb the pain another time. She was there with the others—the stoic Uchiha, who owed his very existence as a whole person to Cell 7's old leader; the hyperactive Uzumaki, concern lining his whiskered face; the ink-user, Sai, who outwardly seemed as though he didn't give a damn, but inwardly was worried to death; Cell 10, along with Cell 8 and 9; even Iruka stopped by, as well as Kurenai, Gai, and Genma.

She was the not-so-silent strength that he found during that painful time in his life, just like Rin was after Obito's death. The headstrong kunoichi refused to leave him by the wayside, like so many other people had done during his life. Throughout the two-month purgatory he endured, she stood guard, bathing his fevered brow when needed, cooking for him, keeping his room livable, keeping him from succumbing to the inviting darkness.

The day the withdrawal had finally broken, he woke to find her sleeping fitfully, curled up beside him, nuzzled next to his arm, exhaustion etched on her too-young features. He wondered to himself how many sleepless nights his addiction had forced her to endure, how many times she had wished he had just died that night she found out about it. His hazy memories of the past two months always included her gentle, worried face, whether he had woken up from a nightmare screaming or had been bent at the toilet, puking his meager meals up.

Kakashi reached over with his right hand and gently brushed some pink hair away from her face. She started at his touch, but when she saw who it was that touched her, she studied him through one eye, a small, tired smile playing at her lips.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, his voice dry and cracked.

"I know," she replied. She reached out a hand and felt his uncovered forehead. "Your fever broke."

He nodded, eye-smiling at her. "See, I'm good as new."

She snorted doubtfully. "I don't think so. You lost a lot of weight, not to mention muscle mass. It's going to be awhile before you get back into the shape you were in."

Kakashi sighed and slipped an arm beneath Sakura's light body, drawing her in for a horizontal hug. "Thank you, Sakura. Thank you so much."

Sakura clung to his black shirt, holding on as though there were no tomorrow. Kakashi was back. For good, this time. He pulled away from her and stood up, walking into the bathroom, where he looked at himself in the mirror. He was pitifully gaunt. His hollow cheeks and the circles beneath his eyes reminded him of a meth addict. His skin had lost much of its elasticity, making him look old and slightly repulsive, in his eyes.

"Your mask in on the towel rack," Sakura said. She had snuck up behind him, and was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You have time for a shower before breakfast."

"Thanks." Sakura nodded and left, shutting the door behind him as though she were giving him no other choice. Kakashi turned on the shower, running the water until it was hot. Stepping beneath the cascade, he allowed the tension of the past two months to melt away. He had hit rock bottom with the withdrawal. Things could only get better, now.

With that last thought, he shut off his shower and dried off. He once again looked into the mirror, and saw a completely different man looking back at him. The wounds from the past remained, but now there was a new hope in his features. The mental scars from the past two months still battled to come through, but stronger was the need for a clean start. Ignoring his fabric mask, he walked out of the bathroom with a smile and a clean shirt on.

Sakura was standing at the stove, frying something that smelled delicious. Her weight was all on one leg, the other tucked neatly behind it. She was singing quietly to herself, absorbed in her own thoughts. Kakashi walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her long hair fondly. Sakura responded by picking a random vegetable out of the frying pan and holding it for Kakashi to eat. He took it thankfully, munching it as he continued to hold Sakura.

"It's ready," Sakura said after awhile. Kakashi let her go and reached for the two plates she had already set out. They ate in companionable silence, side-by-side, closer than circumstances required.

After awhile, Kakashi felt the need to voice what he had been thinking in the shower. "I can't go back to the way it used to be, Sakura."

"I know," she replied, not looking up from her food.

"I was thinking that I'd move out of this place, maybe find a little house on the outskirts of town…this place just holds too much," he continued. "Maybe close to the training grounds."

Sakura tore her gaze away from the vegetables on her plate to study the silver-haired man. He had a far-away look in his eyes, but not a dazed look. "You showed me that I'm not alone, Sakura. I'm not worthless. I'm not just a tool."

Now he was looking at her with that familiar, piercing gaze. It wasn't accusatory, simply gauging. Normally, Sakura would have withered under that gaze, but it was accompanied by a smile that softened its effect.

"Sakura, I owe you my life. Thanks for giving it back to me." Kakashi stood and cleared away the dishes. Sakura simply sat there, chin resting on knitted fingers, watching his back as he washed up. He was a shadow of his former self, but everything that was good in Kakashi Hatake had been preserved somehow. Now, the man was happy. He would be rebuilt with time and care, just as anything was.

And just as always, she would be there to help him pick up the pieces.

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Omigoodneth!!! This was just itching to come out after request. I started and I couldn't stop! So my oneshot turned into a twoshot :) good 4 us. But there is no more after this! I will no longer touch this story. You can infer whatever you want about Kakashi and Sakura's relationship from what I have here. I meant for it to be more of a friend on friend relationship, but think whatever you want! R&R please! 


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